BEYOND the LIMIT
by SweetJustice
Summary: Beyond Birthday: the most horrendous criminals from the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases, has fallen from a heart attack. The publicly announced death relieved the world. All but L: the Hero. A new series of crimes unfold, baring the name of a Phantom. The Kira investigation, now put on hold for one fact: The Eyes of a Shinigami. Did they hold bigger meaning? Was B truly dead?
1. Log 1: BEYOND BIRTHDAY - REBIRTH

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Death Note Series or any of the characters portrayed in this piece. However, I do RP (Roleplay) as L Lawliet and decided to share this wonderful story with you all. The person portraying Beyond Birthday is not myself, but a friend of mine who RP's as this character. All credit on Beyond Birthday Chapters are to that individual. Please read and review, to let us know what you think.

**Upon Reading, Please Note:**

- This is a POV (Point of View) based story.  
- Bold Font in Dialogue (For Beyond Birthday) is associated to the Shinigami attached to him.  
- References to A are all created by a third party. He was given the name Accurate.

**Thank you and please enjoy reading. Send a Review with your feedback.**

* * *

CASE FILE: BEYOND THE LIMIT

**Log #1: BEYOND BIRTHDAY - REBIRTH_**

The sun could be seen setting in the distance, the various shades of red and yellow and pink and purple sprawling out across the sky. The wind kicked up lightly around the area, leaves stirring about and flying ever lightly about. As it was not yet dark and still light enough to move about, there were still people around doing whatever it was that they needed or wanted to do. For a normal human being, that scene may have been attractive; they would be rejoicing and wanting to go outside and celebrate life.

'For a normal human being' being the operative word.

The boy in question who happened to be staring out of his window down at the city, watching its inhabitants scurry around and mind their own business, hated them for that very reason. They were _normal _and he was not. He looked up at the sky and only saw a mess of reds and whites and a bit of black mixed in somewhere. He'd been told by his _other half_ what it was. He wasn't sure he believed it, but when had that _other_ steered him wrong? Oh, that's right. _When he died._

What was supposed to be an escape had turned dramatic when he failed to realize the laundry cart he had jumped into wasn't headed out. It was headed back in. And where it was headed was a place he did not want to be. But by the time he realized it, it was too late. When they eventually did find his body, it was almost a week later. It was such a bloody mess that they almost didn't know how it was. Or at least, until they checked the male's padded room and realized it was him. They had discovered that he had had some sort of cardiac arrest. They figured if he had not had that, his body might not have been torn to pieces by the machinery in the work room of the prison. They did the proper thing and buried the body in a grave and made special note to notify somebody with the name of "L". They had figured whoever he was, they would want to know of the death of Beyond Birthday.

The only reason he had ended up in such a state to begin with was because of L. Had that man not called for outside help in his criminal investigation in the first place, the male would not have been sent to prison in the first place. Why he'd even thought he could get away with that, he didn't know. He'd been so _stupid. _Why did he underestimate her? It was because she'd been a woman. He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, "_That's why I _hate _women." _He punched the wall next to his window hard enough to make the walls shake. The tape came loose on some of his papers and they all came crashing down. He threw a fit, but began to pick them up. He spent a good hour re-taping everything, making sure they were all in the perfect order before stepping back and looking over.

**"Tonight's the night. It has to be. Everything is finally all set up and ready!"**

Ugh, that voice. It grated on his nerves. He'd grown up listening to that voice. It annoyed the shit out of him. He ignored it and headed for the kitchen, opening his fridge. He found what he was looking for, that precious jar of strawberry jam. He opened it up and turned around to stare at himself in the mirror. He hated mirrors. He resisted punching it and spreading glass shards all over the place.

"Fine. We'll go out tonight."

There was a moment of celebration and then all was silent. The walk to the closet that held everything he would need for tonight. He leaned against the doorway after he'd opened the door to the closet, turning on the light. Duffle bags, blades of all kinds, a baseball bat, various empty jars and, of course, jackets and shoes. He chose what he wanted to take carefully, looking back to check the window. It was almost dark.

Perfect.

* * *

The moon hung high and bright in the sky, illuminating the park. It may not have been one of his best ideas, but the park was always a good place to scout for victims. He needed to get one alone; why did everyone have to travel in pairs or packs or have that ever annoying dog? This made his job almost impossible. He took a seat on the bench, adjusting his jacket. _This was so boring._ But that's when he spotted him. His _welcoming back_ gift as it were.

"Sir! Hey, sir!" The boy called out to grab the man's attention. It was a lone jogger. He slowed to a stop, looking the boy over as he jogged over. The man assumed he was talking to a runaway.

"What do you need, kid?" Kid. Yes, that's exactly what the boy wanted to hear. He smiled up at him politely, hands hidden in his pockets.

"I'm lost. Maybe you can help me? Let's go over to that street light and look at my map?" He suggested, playing the part of an innocent quite well. The man gave a polite smile and turned to walk towards the light.

"So, what are you? A runa- . . . Ahhugn." The blow to the back of the head from the boy's bat brought the man to his knees. One or two more blows later, he was laying flat on his back. No, he wasn't dead. Not yet. He'd just passed out. A quick look around to make sure no one was around, the boy dragged the body off into the bushes. This is where his fun began.

The duffle bag opened and a hand reached into it, rummaging around until it found what it was looking for: a pair of pliers. While yes, he'd thought about the pain of what he was about to do might wake the man up, he came somewhat prepared. He dug into the bag once more and pulled out a sandwich bag. It was filled with a type of candy. A type of candy he knew a certain someone liked. He wrapped it into a cloth and stuffed it into the man's mouth. Perfect. Now he could work!

He sat on the man's lower stomach and yawned, reaching to pick up his hand. He looked at the nails in disgust, reaching up with the pliers. He took his time as he gripped the first one; should he tug it out fast or drag it out slow? He yanked it. He didn't get it all and had to do it again. The man had groaned and started to wake up. He hadn't thought of how he was going to keep the man from attacking him. He quickly looked over at his bat and grabbed it. He didn't want to kill the man just yet! He put the bat in his face as the man started waking up more and growled.

"You will not make a sound nor will you move. If you do, I'll slit your throat right here and now." The man passed out from fear. Or was it shock? It had to be fear; he hadn't really done anything to 'shock' him yet. He picked up the pliers again and this time started to _slowly _drag the nails off the man's fingers. By the time he'd finished that, he had in fact passed out from shock. The boy was thrilled, but how much time did he have left?

He put the pliers back in his bag and reached into it once more, pulling out a cleaver. He yawned again and stretched, placing the blade on the man's wrist. He raised his own arm and brought it down hard. He picked up the hand again and looked it over before tossing it up into the tree beside him. He put the blade on the elbow and chopped it off, too. That piece was tossed carelessly off in the bushes. He chopped the rest of the arm off next, leaving it where it was. He did the same thing to the man's other arm before moving to his legs.

His legs. What to do with them. He grabbed the bat and started beating the bottoms of his feet. He watched the body twitch and blood started to pool. He placed his bat down at his feet and picked the cleaver up again. He did the same as with the arms, cutting the legs into sections and tossing them various places. What he was left with was a torso and a head. He knew what he wanted to do with the head, but what to do about the torso . . . Oh! He knew!

Once more with the cleaver in hand, he chopped the head off. It took time just as everything else had. Bone was so hard to cut through. He placed the head off to the side and tossed the cleaver back into his bag. He rooted around inside until he found a smaller blade, using it to cut the chest open. He huffed when it came to breaking the rib cage. The pool of blood that was forming was rather perfect for the last part.

He scooped some of the blood into the jar he'd taken from his bag and walked over to the sidewalk. He hadn't thought of not having a wall to play with. He'd have to use the sidewalk. He wrote what he needed to write, going back to the bushes where the _body_ was. He put all his things back, making sure the candy in the man's mouth was still there. It was. Even better! He picked up his bag and the head, taking it over to the bench he'd been sitting on. He placed the head on the bench facing the scene and adjusted it ever so slightly. Perfect. Everything was perfect!

He then casually started of the exit of the park, humming ever so softly. The sun would be up soon, wouldn't it? He had just enough time to get home. He began to purr as he walked down the sidewalk. Not bad for being away for so long. He entered his apartment and put the bag down after locking the door. He made his way to the bathroom to bathe, thinking back to the message he had left.

_"And so it begins again. I was foolish last time. Mice have that as a habit, you know. I've changed tactics. It is I who am the predator now. Let's see if you have what it takes a second time. Come and catch me if you can!"_

**Log #1: END_**


	2. Log 2: L LAWLIET - NOSTALGIA

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Death Note Series or any of the characters portrayed in this piece. However, I do RP (Roleplay) as L Lawliet and decided to share this wonderful story with you all. The person portraying Beyond Birthday is not myself, but a friend of mine who RP's as this character. All credit on Beyond Birthday Chapters are to that individual. Please read and review, to let us know what you think.

**Upon Reading, Please Note:**

- This is a POV (Point of View) based story.  
- Bold Font in Dialogue (For Beyond Birthday) is associated to the Shinigami attached to him.  
- References to A are all created by a third party. He was given the name Accurate.

**Thank you and please enjoy reading. Send a Review with your feedback.  
**

* * *

CASE FILE: BEYOND THE LIMIT

**Log #2: L LAWLIET - NOSTALGIA_  
**

Things had become more unsettling throughout the course of taking on the Kira Investigation. Though his deductions on the array of crimes fell to par on a single suspect - there was nothing physical to provide a proper verdict. This very fact was upon reason for his sluggish disposition. Day in and out, watching upon the HD LCD screen recordings of a young male taken into apprehension along side a female second party whom was displayed on a different set of videos, not a wink of evidence surfaced. To his dismay, he had to release them as he promised. Giving them a fair deal of distance so he could search new ground and find leads for the investigation, his motivation seemed a bit slurred. Right back down to the end, he found himself peering those videos on repeat, once more.

Silence lingered the dark room upon the exception of rolling tapes. The white noise filtered the venue like a muse of a lullaby. Yet the Sloth's eyes seemed restless; he wasn't truly capable of having a decent amount of sleep; even when he did attempt, it hadn't last too long. His mind was always spurring in the midst of something. A thought here, a theory there. Did Shinigami truly exist? Why play folly of the people in such a way? No - this was all the acts of a spoiled child who wanted to play God. End of story. Yet ... somehow, he desired to get a better understanding of it all. His body urged for knowledge. The fact of the unknown peaked his interests more and more even to the point his preferred posture of sitting became even relevant in the form from which he attempted slumber. This case was really getting to him.

His cheek planted on the base of folded legs, enveloped between the knuckled of the palms whom laid rest at his knees. Lips mildly open as a comfortable means to breathe. And then a light flickered on his laptop, triggering the sleep mode to cease. Dark orbs slightly parted, peering at the notification of his computer screen through a dense forest of black lashes and bangs. In a lofty grunt, the male rose to sit _upright_, leaving his undivided attention to the machine. Extending a hand with a poked out index, the gesture of a pressed ENTER key came upon a black screen with words of white displayed:

**B is dead. May we grieve his loss together...  
**

The cursor danced behind that message, rendering the detective with the impulse to expect something more from it. Nothing came to follow. The silence thickened even further now with the dying of the videos that previously played. Now, left in the darkness with that one lit screen, dark hues fixated on the screen with an even more empty feeling in his heart. He couldn't comprehend it, nor did he know how to respond to it - his stubborn denial could have been the cause. No, it was probably something deeper: out of everything they had been through, he never fully got the chance to sit down with him and ask 'why?'.

This countenance of the detective didn't seem all that well, at this time. With all the progress he had been through in his experience working with the task force, he seemed to seclude himself twice as quickly upon the single monitoring of that letter. He would be sure to gather detail on the death later on, from the prison the deceased had been designated.

Days went in and the report had been retrieved and set between his fingertips. Pinching the edges of the paper and raising upward over his head, making sure to not lose any detail.

"The body was torn to shreds...?" He almost spoke aloud to himself, thinking of questioning the people whom committed the autopsy. Something had to show. His denial kept pushing him - musing for some reason to investigate but he halted himself once seeing the possibility of cardiac arrest before said incident. Could it have been Kira? Such a shocking coincidence it were to fall during this time. Sheer luck ... or sheer genius. It is true Kira could control the criminal within reasonable bounds before killing them; was this another case? Was there anything left behind? No other useful information was presented in the report, leaving him empty of leads. He bit down on his nail, clenching his teeth to a grind. He was stumped. All he could do was assume this were the case just from that single prompt: **Cardiac Arrest.**

Keeping close tabs on activity of that prison in correspondence to the Kira case, he spent most of that week seeing if there were any relevance, requesting for any surveillance videos of the prison to be delivered to him upon request.

As means to spark up his inspiration once more, Watari came over with a tray of sweets, decorating the table before the slumped detective. Needless to say - something did spark. The male leaned in concentration upon a single cup of cubed sugars. Silently in his own little world, he went about stacking them, trying to reach new heights. Compulsive on this act, he hunched in a little closer, heels lifting from the comfortable cushion of the leather chair. Almost there...

"RYUZAKI!"

And then a tumbling occurred. The ivory cubes chimed against the saucer and edge of his coffee cup, breaking his concentration. Blinking a couple times at his fallen tower, he looked up to a task force member by the name of Aizawa. His eyes wide and doll-like, the male tilted his head heavily to the side. "Yes? What can I do for you, Aizawa?"

The male motioned towards the remote and turned it onto a local news channel to reveal a story of a horrendous murder; a dismemberment of a young male's body with bizarre items left behind on the scene: one being a bag lodged between the corpse's teeth full with an assortment of something that the gore somewhat hindered and a single notice.

Bewildered by this, the detective leaped from his seat. The recoil of his pushing up in such haste caused the leather seat to roll back a couple feet. "Hmmm..." This was not Kira's doing, definitely a criminal. The method of the kill seemed nostalgic to him: not the dismemberment, but the bag positioned so inviting into the victim's mouth. He could not be sure of it until he taken a look of the note from which the NPA confiscated from the crime scene along with the body.

Much like an answer to his suspenseful prayer, Chief Yagami entered the room holding the note that made the prodigy yearn so. Gesturing out a pale hand, he taken a hold of the note and read it through. Eyes widened slowly with a weakly dispatched gasp of breath. This alarmed the Task Force members that were currently in the room with him, as the Detective known as L went on rambling something to himself.

He knew who it was, but he couldn't let that news go public. From what the media knows from time lapsed, Beyond Birthday is dead. If he came out and stated this was not the case, that would cause a commotion in the city. It seemed planned for L himself to have to go it on his own this time - a battle of minds. He was going to get just that. Slowly dragging his feet, proceeding to the doorway, the male peered over his shoulder to Chief Yagami, leaving him with a simple order before he made his way to prepare himself:

"I leave the Kira Investigation in your initiative for now, I have something to do."

**Log #2: END_**


	3. Log 3: BEYOND BIRTHDAY - ANGER

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Death Note Series or any of the characters portrayed in this piece. However, I do RP (Roleplay) as L Lawliet and decided to share this wonderful story with you all. The person portraying Beyond Birthday is not myself, but a friend of mine who RP's as this character. All credit on Beyond Birthday Chapters are to that individual. Please read and review, to let us know what you think.

**Upon Reading, Please Note:**

- This is a POV (Point of View) based story.  
- Bold Font in Dialogue (For Beyond Birthday) is associated to the Shinigami attached to him.  
- References to A are all created by a third party. He was given the name Accurate.

**Thank you and please enjoy reading. Send a Review with your feedback.**

* * *

CASE FILE: BEYOND THE LIMIT

**Log #3: BEYOND BIRTHDAY - ANGER_**

** "****How many times have you emptied the bath water now?"**

How many times had he emptied the bath water? Every time he refilled the tub, it got less and less red. He assumed because there was less and less blood to wash off. How much blood had he gotten on him? The hardest part was getting it out of his hair. He emptied an entire bottle of shampoo into it and finally got all of that offensive substance out. The tub needed refilled again. Most of the blood had come off his skin the first wash, but there was that ever present film of blood that just seemed to never want to come off. He scrubbed and scrubbed until he'd almost rubbed his body raw. Why did the fabric of his clothes have to let it seep through? Finally deeming himself clean, he refilled the tub one final time and relaxed against the back of it, staring up at the ceiling.

"How long has it been since I was ever able to relax?" He was more talking to himself than his other self. He'd never quite understood why he was even there in the first place. He received no answer to his question; so it appeared that creature was smarter than previously thought. He closed his eyes and all he saw was black. Good, black was a good color to see. He yawned again. Should he be going to bed after this? Or should he trek to the living room and turn the television on? He was always interested to see how society took his crimes. They had been well received all those years ago. How would they fare now? He smirked as he danced his fingertips along the edge of the tub. He couldn't wait to hear how it went.

He spent at least another ten minutes in the tub before he climbed out, stretching a little bit. He reached for a towel and took his time drying off, tossing the towel off behind him somewhere as he walked. He had always wondered why his bathroom wasn't connected to his bedroom, but that was what he got for getting a crappy apartment. He'd fix that soon enough. He'd been in his one for how long? He needed a change in scenery. He walked over to his dresser and rummaged through it, tugging out a pair and white and red striped boxers. After slipping into them, he raided the closet. His jeans fit loosely on his hips, always threatening to fall by never seeming to.

"Hm, white or black." He mused to himself once more as he looked over his shirts. "But then short sleeve or long?" He rolled his eyes. Who was he trying to be; himself or his rival? He tore a long sleeve black shirt from its hanger and pulled it over his head, yawning once more as he left his bedroom. He trekked down the hallway, hands outstretched on either side of him. His fingertips danced along the walls as he hummed, that smirk returning. As he passed the living room, he grabbed the remote and turned the tv on. How long would it be before the scene was discovered? He looked at the clock. He still had time.

**"****What are you going to eat?"**

"Why do you even care?"

**"****I'm just curious."**

The boy said nothing and opened the fridge. He had limited choices. He would have to leave and go buy groceries. Like a normal human. He rolled his eyes and grabbed yet another jar of strawberry jam. He shuffled his feet back to the living room, flopping down on the couch. He wiggled and shifted around, trying to get comfortable. He eventually decided for sitting upside down, dripping the jam into his mouth with his fingers. He channel surfed for the news, going back and forth between them all. This was always the hardest part; waiting to be recognized. He'd always hated that for as far back as he could remember.

It was always hard work being the _back up._ He didn't understand, at first, why Accurate always had to be number one. That was the first thing he ever blamed L for. It wasn't until he developed an attraction to A that be decided that L wasn't so bad . . . Or at least, until the male died. Then he had a renewed hatred for L. That's probably why he started all of this in the first place . . . As revenge.

Finally! How long had he been mindlessly sitting there looking back through the channels? The news had finally recognized him! He switched positions and sat up, sitting on the edge of the couch. He waited. He listened as they described how gruesome it was. He purred when they said they couldn't show it due to its graphicness. He was slightly disappointed they weren't going to show the message he left, but he was pleased enough that they had mentioned it. However, he heard who they blamed it on. He. Was. Not. Pleased.

"Who in the fuck is Kira?!" Clearly, he had not done as much research into this area as he had previously thought. He heard a laugh and knew who it belonged to. And that just pissed him off more. "What in the fuck are you laughing at?!"

** "****My dear child, have you not paid attention to anything going on around you?"**

"And what in the fuck is that do you mean?"

The Shinigami just laughed. He was enjoying this far too much. The boy became enraged and threw the jar of jam at the creature. It passed right through him and smashed against the wall. He heard it shatter with a somewhat wet sound, watched the jam and shards of glass slide to the floor. His eyebrow twitched; he was not looking forward to cleaning that up. This Kira was something else he would have to look into. He turned his attention back towards the television, back towards the news. He was hoping they would shed some light on who this Kira was. They didn't. Not really. Growling, but with nothing else to throw, he tore apart his coffee table in search of that laptop of his. It was old, but it would serve its purpose.

Most of his morning was spent learning about Kira. All he could find out was that he was supposedly a serial killer. They'd had several suspects, but there hadn't been any real progress or leads. He went as far as to hack into the police data base to get more information. The more he learned the more he realized that this had to be the one who killed him. Or at least, helped contribute to his death. He remembered everything about his death. He remembered a pain in his chest shortly before falling into the machinery. He couldn't remember why he'd been up that high in the first place. Something to do with the laundry basket? He couldn't remember all the details. Although, hadn't his own Shinigami mentioned something like this to him while they were both dead? He couldn't remember. So much had happened since then. He reached up and pulled his own hair in frustration.

"This . . . This isn't fair! I did that! I murdered that man! And they're giving this Kira the credit!"

**"****Well, you know how to fix that, right?"**

There was a moment of silence. Yes, he knew of a way to fix it, but he had to be careful. He had to space these things out so as to not look suspicious. He took several deep breaths to calm himself before finally opening his eyes. When had he closed them?

"We'll go out and socialize either in the afternoon or tomorrow. Right now I have to clean." He got up and walked over to his duffle bag, carrying it into the living room. He placed it on the coffee table and went into the bathroom and grabbed his cleaning kit. He sat back down and sighed, opening it up and taking out the bat first. He had knives to clean next. Then the jam and the glass. The Shinigami , quite intrigued, sat quietly beside him and watched. It was obvious to the Shinigami that his 'human' had a plan and he was eager to find out what it was. Even if he had to wait until the boy was finished cleaning. He didn't care. He was eager to see what was going to happen next.

**Log #3: END_**


	4. Log 4: L LAWLIET - WONDER

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Death Note Series or any of the characters portrayed in this piece. However, I do RP (Roleplay) as L Lawliet and decided to share this wonderful story with you all. The person portraying Beyond Birthday is not myself, but a friend of mine who RP's as this character. All credit on Beyond Birthday Chapters are to that individual. Please read and review, to let us know what you think.

**Upon Reading, Please Note:**

- This is a POV (Point of View) based story.  
- Bold Font in Dialogue (For Beyond Birthday) is associated to the Shinigami attached to him.  
- References to A are all created by a third party. He was given the name Accurate.

**Thank you and please enjoy reading. Send a Review with your feedback.**

* * *

CASE FILE: BEYOND THE LIMIT

**Log #4: L LAWLIET - WONDER_**

The rhythm of his slow paced footsteps upon the cold tiled facility floors echoed down the long thin halls of Task Force headquarters, soon waning down to a silent death as he gradually paced from audio range. Digging a hand into the loose-fit pockets of his jeans, he fished out a cell phone: one he had personally tweaked to filter out his voice. Skimming through the list of external contacts, he came up with one in particular whom he peaked special interests in. Dialing he number, he would have been greeted by an older man from which he engaged in a long and thorough conversation, fishing lines as stellar as the world's greatest sale's pitch. Once he concluding in his discussion on what was to come, he hung up the phone and dismissed it back into his pocket upon arriving to a designated room.

He stood before a sliding door which opened for him in welcomed fashion. Within the room a single computer plugged up in the corner on the floor and a closet of arranged clothing - much of the replica sort. It would visibly show how L didn't really favor branching out of his comfort zone. This was his personal room, though rarely used hence the scarce atmosphere it let off. Stepping in, he gestured for the closet and took out what looked to be a shoe box, extracting a single item from the box which he later placed on his head for later use.

He almost immediately plopped down to the floor before that desktop computer, extending indexes from both hands and went about tapping at the ivory keys for an arranged recording. Setting it to broadcast after his minor talk with a local radio station: Sakura TV, the message alone was enough to stir people up: just as planned. L was going to make his _public_ appearance in a game of Devil's Advocate. Before the live connection to the Sakura TV media screens enabled, reaching up to the item over his head, pushing it down over his face; it was an obscure mask. He purposely wore this to provoke what he was talking to on the other end, though whom he addressed was not the true person he was working to lure.

**_Airing in 3 ... 2 ... 1..._**

And there sat the masked male, broadcasted on television in the large Kanto region of Japan. The masked individual leaned in slightly and tilts his head, beginning to speak. His voice was still however filtered, compliments of his distracting Cromagnon-esque mask.

"Greetings to you, I am L. I decided to come forth on this day in reference to the murder broadcasted earlier this day. Kira not only sought in ill will for this crime, it was an intentional attempt to get at me. You see, Kira has a way of experimenting with his kills and does something out of the loop every once and a while as he discovers new things about his powers. This is likely the case. For the fact he is _mimicking _a criminal with **bad tastes** and **lack of creativity** - one whom I've already proven to apprehend is one thing ... but, I've come down to the conclusion that Kira is running out of ideas. You should give up, before you slip up."

It was then, the male would cut transmission from his computer and slowly rise up from his crouching position. It was a win-win situation on his end. If his hypothesis was correct: This would tempt Kira himself to finding the true criminal behind the murder he was addressed in the broadcast, while the one he truly sent it out for would be agitated for the fact he played with the _false_ assumption of the media. Things should fall into place quite smoothly. Kira was a menace to deal with - but his drive to cleanse the world, would be enough to hold him back and investigate. Had his claims on Yagami been correct and the fact he is able to watch him on close measures due to him being part of the task force at this time, it was more than expedient for him to catch on to any leads that Yagami may have come up with. It was B that was the one he had to worry for. It was a shot in the sky, really. L had been hoping the male's rare of discredit would be enough of a push to make the other strike again with an unfocused mind.

Removing the mask from his face, he walked towards the door, exiting as he shunned the item to the floor behind his footsteps. That now disarmed hand would rise upward, index curling in to hook at his lower lip in a light tug. That broadcast alone should hold off some things, at any given range he presumed at a probability of 34%, seeing as B was not the run-of-the-mill criminal. His mind was truly a pinnacle of excellence worthy of being considered a _successor_. It was probably that alone, that drove the male mad. Or maybe he was mad all along? B, much like L, didn't seem very fond of expressing themselves.

He had Watari arrange for a car, bringing the corpse and his fragments carefully to the facility handled with care. He also requested the forensic photographs of the body found on the scene just for insurance. With all these pieces arranged, he had Watari place them in a special room that was only accessible to Watari and himself. The room decor was in an array of sweets. Not a single corner of the room was hindered of something sugar inspired. He had no real name for the room - had he given it much thought, he would have called this his **happy place**.

The bodies parts spread before him on a long clothed covered clinic table with the photographs set neatly on a side tray with the bloodied bag which was found in the disembodied head's mouth. He reached for a tweezers-like tool and fondled at the bag's sealing to cause it to open. Inside was several Chupa Chups lollipops - personally one of his favorites; a personal stab to his heart for the other to make something so beautiful and scrumptious into the form of a malicious act. This bag ... these candies... L decided to check into something the police and forensics team probably didn't take into consideration. Fingerprinting. The bag was far too scorn in blood to pick up on anything but the candies inside were bound to pick up on something, since he was not handy of any weapons on the scene. Though convinced it was in fact B, he couldn't comprehend how the other was alive: this is why he was collecting the fingerprints, just to be sure.

Looking at the body, the forensics department was right. The body seemed to been bludgeoned by a blunt object and the cuts came from a blade of some sort. Dark optics followed over to the corpse's head. The base of the neck seemed a bit different from the rest of the body - it appeared more sloppy as if multiple attempts of cutting was performed. "Machete ... no, a cleaver." He corrected himself and then pondered on the beatings. Looking at the whelps and bruises, this was definitely done by a 2x4 of some sort. It couldn't have been a metal bat since more bones would have actually been in a worse condition despite the cleaver severances. That or ... B was feeling awfully generous. He peered over the victim's head hoping to find some sort of splinter or shards of wood to vouch for his theory.

He had told Watari to arrange a car for him later in that day, closing towards the early dusk. He felt it would be wise to go and scout the actual crime scene with his own own, just in case something was overlooked.

**Log #4: END_**


	5. Log 5: BEYOND BIRTHDAY - SPITE

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Death Note Series or any of the characters portrayed in this piece. However, I do RP (Roleplay) as L Lawliet and decided to share this wonderful story with you all. The person portraying Beyond Birthday is not myself, but a friend of mine who RP's as this character. All credit on Beyond Birthday Chapters are to that individual. Please read and review, to let us know what you think.

**Upon Reading, Please Note:**

- This is a POV (Point of View) based story.  
- Bold Font in Dialogue (For Beyond Birthday) is associated to the Shinigami attached to him.  
- References to A are all created by a third party. He was given the name Accurate.

**Thank you and please enjoy reading. Send a Review with your feedback.**

* * *

CASE FILE: BEYOND THE LIMIT

**Log #5: BEYOND BIRTHDAY - SPITE_**

Beyond sat there on the floor, carefully wiping down his bowie knife. He kept the cleaning rag moving along it smoothly so he didn't cut himself through the cloth. All the while the words "_bad taste" _and _"lack of creativity" _echoed in his mind. He'd kept the television on while he cleaned the knives. He'd heard the "special" broadcast. He was surprised a fire didn't start when he threw the still bloodied cleaver into the screen. He would have to get himself another tv. Or just hang out in his room all the time and watch the tv in there. That seemed like a good idea to him. The bed was far more comfortable than the couch anyway.

**"****When we're out, are we going to the electronics store?"** The Shinigami asked from the couch. The creature had gotten bored of just floating by the window. Actually, the creature was bored in general. He needed to do something. He needed Beyond to do something. They both needed to do something. He didn't understand why they weren't doing anything. The sun was coming through the window at just the right angle and when the raven removed the cloth from the blade, the light reflected right up into his eyes. He was blinded and he cried out, making the Shinigami laugh. The incident wasn't really all that funny, but to the bored creature on the couch, it was hilarious.

Beyond turned and stabbed his newly cleaned knife into the creature's leg. Which, once again, went through the Shinigami and into the couch. Great. Another hole. He was just going to have to replace all of his things, wasn't he? He growled and tore the knife from the couch and put it in its sheath at his waist. He'd finished cleaning all his knives and decided to once more clean up a little bit. Against his better judgment, he was heading out into the _real_ world.

* * *

**"****Socializing~ Socializing~"** The Shinigami sang as he floated right along behind the boy. The Shinigami himself looked just like the boy he was following. There were subtle differences such as outfit and the blood red angelic looking wings shooting out of his back. The 'jeans' that were worn were a pitch black and the shirt was blood red, like the wings. He was ever the happy sort, annoying the hell out of the boy. And no one could hear the creature but Beyond.

"You're an annoying prick, go away." He said aloud. There were people who turned to look at him and they glared at him. He didn't much care, however. He was in a bad mood to start with; he'd lost credit on his crime. Someone else had taken it and it pissed him off. He was out today to obtain groceries. Groceries. If only he didn't have to eat. He may have died once, but he was alive again. Living people had to eat, didn't they? And could he even really be classified as alive? He wasn't sure how that worked, really. He'd asked the Shinigami once, but he'd never gotten a straight answer. As a matter of fact, it never mattered what the question was. One could ask the Shinigami what color the sky was and he'd reply with something obscure like describing to you what it felt like to _eat _the sky.

**"****What's wrong? Still all pissy that they gave your credit away?"** The Shinigami laughed then, holding his sides and rolling over. He was having far too much fun teasing him with that. The boy blocked him out and went back to putting food stuffs in the cart. He had to give the illusion of being a normal human being after all. He yawned as he walked the aisles, debating with himself if he wanted that or this or whatever. The Shinigami wasn't much help as he kept repeating that they needed more strawberry jam. There were already ten jars in the cart, how many more did they need?

"If you don't shut your goddamn face, I will shut it for you." He said in a hushed, dark whisper, cutting his eyes up to where the creature floated. "It's bad enough I'm starting to get a headache from being around all these godforsaken people and their goddamned names and their goddamned death days . . . Which, by the way, I've seen several we can enjoy later this week." He added that last bit with a bit of happiness in his voice. Funny how the thought of murder could make him smile when he was in a bad mood. The Shinigami purred and clapped his hands. The topic of conversation then switched to what the Shinigami wanted to see done this time. It all seemed plausible to him. He'd just have to give it a try.

Finally, the pair made their way up to the front and began to check out. The woman gave him a polite smile and he gave his own fake one. He yawned as she checked him out, the bag boy putting the groceries in the cart. Beyond had no car; he couldn't distinguish colors very well and no one would give him a license. But really, what would he need one of _those _for? He smiled ever politely and paid for his things in cash and left, wheeling his cart out the front doors and down the sidewalk. He managed to get home in a timely fashion and put everything away, flopping on the couch to watch tv.

What he saw on the news intrigued him. Though, he found it infuriated him, too. Whoever this _Kira_ was, they were good at what they did. But he was better. He was so much _better._

"Are you watching this filth?"

**"****Yes."**

"Good. You watch it and then tell me about it. I have to go prepare for tonight."

**"****We're going out tonight?"** The Shinigami seemed taken aback. He hadn't expected another adventure this soon.

"Yes. I will not be outdone nor will I have _my _credit stolen from me. I let Accurate get by with it because I loved him. I will not let this . . . this . . . _Kira_ get by with it. I will get my revenge. Even if I can't kill the man, I'll at least make sure they all know who I am."

**"****You're not going to do what I think you're going to do, are you?"**

The boy gave no answer, he could only smirk. He bowed his head and disappeared down the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind him. The Shinigami could have followed him easily, but he'd been given a job to do. Sighing, he started watching the tv, gaining as much knowledge as was possible.

* * *

Beyond sat quietly in the church, pretending to pray. He was waiting for the priest to finish with whoever in the pew a few rows back. The Shinigami was up in the pulpit, mocking what it would be like to preach a sermon. It was so hard not to laugh. Pity he was the only one who could hear the Death God up there. The priest might have gotten to at least _live _a little before he perished. He could hear shuffling behind him. Was it finally time? He didn't dare look up and kept his head down. He was playing with the knife in his sleeve, poking it up and down his arm. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw who he wanted to see.

The Shinigami had stopped with his mockery and had grown quite still. His eyes were on the boy as he started to slowly get up. The priest was up at the front with his back to the boy, mumbling something under his breath. Probably a pray; Beyond didn't much care as he tapped the man on the shoulder. As he turned, the knife he had concealed was at his throat and there was a rather large smile on the boy's face.

"Good evening, Terrence Cloud. How are you, hm?" The man looked utterly shocked. This was the first time he had ever laid eyes upon this child. How did he know his name?

"How do you . . ." He was cut off as the blade was giving just a little pressure.

"Oh, it doesn't matter. Even if I told you, you wouldn't believe me. No one did . . . Well, one person did, but he's dead now. Suicide. Pity, I sort of loved him."

The priest had no idea what was going on. The boy's words didn't make any sense. Maybe he just wanted money? He could at least give him that if it spared his life.

"Here, you can have it! Take it all!" He handed over a collection plate only to have it knocked out of his hands.

"I didn't come here for the money. I came here for your life. It ends tonight, you know." His tone was so matter of fact that it literally scared the priest. "Come. Move to the center there. Just stand there. Don't move. Don't make a sound. If you call for help, I'll kill you where you stand."

With all options gone, the priest did as he was told. The Shinigami was already digging through the bag, handing the baseball bat off to the boy. He flicked the knife closed and put it into his jean pocket, taking aim with the bat. Even before the priest made it to his destination, the boy swung. With a loud **_CRACK _**the priest was falling to his knees. He tried to turn his head to look back at the boy, but another loud **_ CRACK_** broke his nose and he fell forward. He was but passed out for now. That wouldn't be the case soon, however.

"Damn it, I should have laid the tarp out first. Lift him up."

**"****No, you lift him up."**

"Look here, assface. Lift him up so I can work!"

The Shinigami rolled his eyes and floated over, putting the duffle bag down. He then lifted up the body as the tarp was dragged free. He rolled it out and the body was placed back down upon it, rolled over onto its back, spread eagle. The human yawned and looked over the blades; the cleaver would work, but did he really want to use it so soon? Shouldn't he be removing the fingers and toes this time? He hadn't done that yet, had he? He couldn't remember exactly. He rolled his eyes and opted for the cleaver anyway.

He looked down at the left hand and counted out the fingers. How many collection plates were there? He figured there were at least five. He contemplated that for several moments before shrugging. He muttered what sounded like another curse word and shrugged. He chopped the bands and feet off first, the blood starting to pool on the tarp. He made sure to get his bare feet coated in the blood, walking the feet to the rear of the church. He found a place for them and placed them on either side of the doors. He walked back and picked up the hands next, walking them to the front. He placed one on each pew in the front row before walking back. He had the rest of the body to play with.

The priest groaned and started to wake up and the boy sighed. He reached for the baseball bat and tapped the sides of the man's head. The Shinigami was already working with the duct tape, placing one single strip over the man's mouth. At least he couldn't scream now. He shoved the bloodied cleaver in the man's face and shooshed him, a sickening smirk on his face.

"Just relax. It'll be over soon." To emphasize his point, he brought the cleaver high above his head. He brought it down with enough force to relieve the man's body of his arm. However, he _missed_ and the priest ended up passing out. "Good, now I can continue without much struggle." He took several minutes to decide what he wanted to do with the rest of the body. He had arms and legs to deal with. He knew what he wanted to do with the body and the head already. This plan didn't appear to be well thought out. "Cresil, what do you think I should do with the arms and the legs?"

**"****Make a cross out of them?"** The Shinigami shrugged then, looking away. He looked back after a moment and shrugged again.** "Chop 'em off and I'll see what I can do."** The boy did just that and handed them up to his _friend_ and watched him float away. Now, all he was left with was the body and the head.

"I should really invest in an axe." He sighed and knelt down on his knees, working on relieving the body of his head. He could literally almost hear the heart stop beating. He picked up the head and made his bloodied little foot prints once more all the way up to the front, placing the head up on the podium. He placed it in such a manner that it would be the first thing everyone saw when they walked in. He walked back and looked down at the body; how could he make this symbolic? Wasn't there always something about the 'heart of God'? He could sense a reference here that he could use to make a jab at Kira. Yes! It. Was. Perfect.

He tossed the cleaver into the duffle bag and dug around until he found his hunting knife. This was one of his favorite knives. He purred as he stabbed it into the chest, cutting around where he knew the heart to be. He had one hell of a time with the ribcage. Once that was broken and out of the way, he just had to tear through so much muscle. He found the organ he cherished and tore it free, bouncing it around in his hands.

"With this, I do believe I have figured out my message!" He was talking aloud, making bloody foot prints once more. He didn't much care that he was doing it, it would just make the investigation of the scene that much more fun. Oh, and the reporters! He couldn't wait to see what they said about that! He walked up behind the podium to the large wall, looking it over. He squeezed the heart just a little bit, coating his fingers in it and began to write. When he was finished, the Shinigami had come back and in his hands was a cross made out of legs and arms.

_ "__I see you've stolen my credit Kira. Shame on you. You should know better than to steal the credit of a true genius.I hereby challenge you, Kira. I will prove to you who the greatest killer is. And I will prove to L what real taste and creativity is! Just you wait and see. Just. You. Wait."_

**"****Oh, good. You had me worried you were going to sign your name."**

"I'm not done." Beyond then left his handprint, in blood, at the bottom of his message. Almost like a signature. "There. I know they'll know its not Kira now. Has that fuck ever done that? I think not, sir!"

The Shinigami sighed, shaking his head. That print, if it was run, probably wouldn't show up in the data base. If it did, it would show its owner as deceased. Oh, what a turn of events that'll take. The Shinigami could honestly say he was eager to see what would happen.

"Here, hang it up above the message! Oh, oh! And stab the heart into the center of it!" The boy was all too excited by this idea. The Shinigami did as it was told and when finished, floated back a bit to look at it.

** "****It does look nice, doesn't it?"**

"Yeeeessssssss!" Now, all he had to do was pose the body. He dragged it off the tarp and propped it up against the podium as well, stepping back to look at his scene. There were so many bloody hand prints and foot prints he was sure the investigators were going to have a field day with that! He clapped his hands together and rolled the tarp up, shoving it under one of the pews. He zipped his duffle bag back up and started walking towards the door. He was covered in so much fucking blood . . . At least he had shampoo and soap at his apartment._._

"Well, I do believe we are done here!" he held the door open for the Shinigami and started walking back down the street towards their home. "Do you think L and Kira will like what I wrote for them?"

**"****Yes, I do believe they will."** There was a smirk on both their faces as they walked. This was all just too _perfect. _

**Log #5: END_**


	6. Log 6: L LAWLIET - PUZZLES

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Death Note Series or any of the characters portrayed in this piece. However, I do RP (Roleplay) as L Lawliet and decided to share this wonderful story with you all. The person portraying Beyond Birthday is not myself, but a friend of mine who RP's as this character. All credit on Beyond Birthday Chapters are to that individual. Please read and review, to let us know what you think.

**Upon Reading, Please Note:**

- This is a POV (Point of View) based story.  
- Bold Font in Dialogue (For Beyond Birthday) is associated to the Shinigami attached to him.  
- References to A are all created by a third party. He was given the name Accurate.

**Thank you and please enjoy reading. Send a Review with your feedback.**

* * *

CASE FILE: BEYOND THE LIMIT

**Log #6: L LAWLIET - PUZZLES_**

The car ride was virtually silent; aside from Watari who was driving, there was no one he could really talk to - though, Watari knew him well enough to read what was going on through that obtuse mind of his. Knees hugged up against his chest as pale feet fondled one another. Onyx optics peered outside the densely tinted windows at many trees and scenery they passed by. Though he seemed to be a little too focused on what appeared outside - this was not the case. His eyes were fixated on something else in particular: his reflection. The void expression reflected upon his pale features and the eyes from which one would call soul-less. He had a very limited ability to feel emotion, that or he hid it extremely well. But that notice had been bothering him from the moment the police confiscated the photograph of the message addressed for him before cleaning up the scene. He wasn't exactly sure why, but he was taking this personally. It was probably because he had such high hopes for the other in the beginning, though he could never truly say they had the pleasures of conversing with one another face to face. That was the flaw of being the _golden child_, the extra attention from others just didn't ode well amongst peers.

The many thoughts that lingered his subconscious would have made a normal human being fall into a state of melancholic ailing; L was too contained for that. It was all in the means of understanding the idealism of the crime - or rather the criminal who performed such deeds. His hand raised, pressing a thumb up to distort the proper shape of his pale tiers vocalizing a soft question.

"Was I truly incapable of seeing what damage this has all caused? Am I the one at fault, here?"

"I beg your pardon, sir?" Spoke the elder in the front seat, almost immediately breaking L from his contemplation.

Eyes shifted aside, back onto that accursed reflection of himself. The only shame he could ever live with was looking so similar to the cause of the most cold-hearted murders in criminal history. His replied in a soft tone. "It is nothing, Watari. I was just thinking things through." Never would he have dared to imagine dragging Watari into this situation, nor did he want to carry on in his acts with the sheer knowledge that the other had truly been worrying for him. This was the man he could always turn to, the one who knew the things he felt even before he could even utter in admittance. He never did speak his truest feelings about Watari in their privacy, however. He was alone for about a quarter of his life until founded by this man. He felt if he did find the audacity to even speak those words of taboo - that he truly _seen him as a father_ - that he may indefinitely lose him and once more drown into that abyss of seclusion.

Truth was, Watari already knew of this much. But as respects to the detective, he not once uttered a word of this. There was no need in stating the obvious.

This applied for the both of them.

Soon upon the observation of dense yellow tape covering the radius of the city park area, L raised his head upward, nearly not noticing that they had already arrived to the crime scene. It seemed that time could easily be lost track of when one's mind was elsewhere. He had to remain focused and not dwell too much on the past.

He was advised to wear his sneakers, just in case he came upon any overlooked shards that may pierce through his flesh. Without any retaliation to Watari's single request, he took up a pair of scuffed sneakers, slipping them onto his feet. He didn't bother putting his teeth in all the way, however. He preferred to step downward on the heel, knowing he wasn't going to tolerate standing in them for too long. He couldn't be too careful though, believing that there would be possibility that Kira would also have been interested in this site. And if his theory on Yagami being Kira was in fact true, he would not have any problem coming through the boundaries of the tape, being the son of the NPA's chief. Dragging out a baseball cap, he pressed it down over his mess of a mane, barely making his hues visible.

It had been finally down to the pinnacle of full dusk at this time; the sky no longer tainted in it's peach colored hues was now blanketed in a sky of deep navy and stars. It was dark enough for him not to hold the caution in wearing that hat, but he knew the street lights were going to activate soon. The bright florescent hue of the lights was enough for the male to be able to maneuver about without the obvious need of a flashlight. He really did not want to pull any attention to himself.

Stepping out of the limousine in a small leap, hence the automobile door being opened, the male would walk towards a particular bench where the head was said to located. Crouching downward in his favored position. Eyes locked onto the base of the bench, noting how poorly the cleaning job was done in getting the blood out of the cement. This was to be expected since the bloodied head was perched upon a very difficult medium - that being wood. He took the time to look over at the cement ground where the crimson message was left behind; that was cleaned up to full par. Not a single trace was left.

"Watari, recite to me the forensics' report. Have they confirmed the victim's identity? Also, may you provide me with the snapshots of the scene?"

The elder did as he was told, only confirming that the victim was a native of Japan, though not living in the area for very long. The name still under speculation. It seemed he would have to do some testing and figure that out himself. He gestured his hand upward, musing for Watari to hand him a tweezers Once handed the desired item, the prodigious detective would pick at the wooden bench, tugging out a loose splinter of wood that was tainted with some of the victim's hemoglobin pigmentation. Dropping the splinter into a small zip-lock bag, he would rise himself upward to stand, walking over to where they police found the discarded arm.

That was when he took reference to the photographs shown: The position of the arm couldn't really give off any indication as to where it was tossed from, but the direction of the splatter from the dismembered limb gave him something to work it. He eyed the photograph and the back to the grassy surface below him. The grass in this spot was more hard and discolored - possibly the result of the blood clogging up the pores from the grass which was required for it to breathe and feed. Yes, he was in the direct spot.

Now if he were to focus on the photograph in great intent, the direction of the splattered blood induced from the recoil of the limb hitting the ground, he could level out the direction from which the limb was thrown. In silence, he slowly turned around and motioned towards a heavyset of bushes adjacent to the spot he was currently standing. Again - the grass was discolored and hard. It was far a greater deal than before, meaning this was the area were the severance took place.

Skimming through the photographs, he placed his attention on the ones fixated on the dismembered head: The close-up, the mid range, and the full scale photograph of the scene. With the news being limited, he had to make out if there were any signs in the photograph from which the criminal wished to show to him. He paused. The head was purposely facing in a direction, giving off the visual that it was looking over towards the bushes.

"It could be evident that he wanted us to notice the head first, but this could have easily been changed by someone who was on the scene. The evidence of the arm backed up my accusation. I shouldn't be too focused on this…. But B is known to play amongst riddles and puzzles. Hmm… I think that is all we need for now - we have to get back to headquarters and see if anything else has occurred."

Nothing else was said and the two would motion to the limousine, heading back to task force headquarters and away from the scene.

* * *

_This just in - another heinous homicide has occurred, this time in a small chapel at the center of the Kanto district. The body was revealed to be the owner of Terrence Cloud - a local town priest. Cloud was brutally chopped up and postured about the chapel of his faith. "The murder had taken place some time earlier this night as the blood was still dampened in the carpets at the scene of the crime," says an officer investigating the scene - his name requested not to be given. Along with various occult décor in the homicide, there was a very interesting note left behind addressed to the world famous detective, L - who is currently in charge of the Kira investigation. Could this be relevant? Find out after these messages._

It was was almost a miracle that he stepped into the car when he did; he may not have been able to catch onto his message until later the next morning had he not decided to leave at this time. The male bit at the nail of his thumb, contemplating on whom was assigned to patrol duty that day. He could tell by the report that the testimonials it was someone of his Task Force, hence them not wishing to reveal their name as he advised. Just then, an annoying beeping melody was heard, putting his train of thought to a halt.

Oh, how he truly hated cell phones. But, since the vibration was coming from his own pocket, he could make an exception this time around. Dragging the device out of his pocket, he lifted it to his ear answering. It was Mogi on the other other end, confirming that it was he who was at the scene of the crime previously reported. "I have one request. tell the forensics team to leave everything there untouched. I will have my own people tend to it." Mogi agreed ritually to the request and was heard reciting the message. Such an efficient male Mogi was, he had right mind to keep him in lines of his own personal investigations when he felt the services were required. After getting in on full detail, the male looked over at the clock in the front:

**11:11pm.**

He frowned at this and resulted in his own deduction, falling silent and making the officer on the other end worry. Socially inept, the detective would hang up the cell phone with a dry "Thank you for your help. I will be there shortly."

* * *

Driving up to the scene, where only Mogi had been present now, L had stepped out of the limousine. With a box of chocolate filled panda crackers in his hand, the male would waltz into the open chapel with his caretaker following close behind. Once stepping past the threshold, he was ready to begun a thorough analysis.

"Ryuuzaki?" Mogi spoke out softly.

L stopped in place for a moment almost as if disgusted in hearing that name. the only reason he had been using it as an Alias now was to act as a memento of what he thought was forever lost. It took a longer response time than his normal quick pace, but nothing too spacious to be noticed. Though, he did not bother to ask the other what was on his mind. "Let's begin, shall we?"

Almost immediately as he went upon the bloody foot and hand prints, the sloth kicked off his shoes and walked along the surface of the carpet over the steps as if they were his own. "Ryuuzaki, what are you-?" "-There is no need, this person is dead." he cut off Mogi's statement, already knowing what the complaint was going to be about. It left the officer a little confused in the process, but he knew that L knew what he was talking about. At that point questioning ceased.

Each given step was careful, tracing over the trail given for him. He felt it was just a means of trickery for the police - it had nothing to do with him. This was just B's sick way of getting under his skin, wanting to make himself known. Funny how criminals could be so immature and needy of attention; oddly enough ... this also applied to the heroes. Each step he taken overlapping the prints were dry, crusted upon the heavy carpet. L raised his head upward to the wall clock, peering over the time.

**11:17pm.**

It was then he motioned over to where the heavier set of the body was positioned at the podium. Soon his steps started to give off a squishing sound and a moisture dampening at his feet before the body. The annoying cling of the plasma taking rest to his flesh had already begun to harden. A soft hum passed the male's lips. The one magnificent thing about chapels - they were always densely covered in carpet. It was not extremely hard to find out the timing of one's death, or rather the murder. reaching into that box of crackers, the detective would pull out a panda and help himself to it's scrumptious flavors. Now, a true genius at his work:

"This murder had to be from the time frame of 10:40pm. The time now is 11:20pm, meaning that the criminal is not too far from here. Whether he lives here - which I highly doubt is of no concern to me. Expect that he is to jump from various locations. That being said, this time is merely an estimation based on what I know on blood and it's plasma. Hemoglobin, the pigment that causes blood to harden is known to dray at an average of 15-30 minutes based on the surface it is spilt upon. This chapel's carpet is made scarcely of virgin nylon - which is known to have a much slower absorption rate than other material due to the plastic-like trait it carries. At most 45 minutes is what this other would need in order to escape at a decent distance to call it safe."

He stopped at the time, licking his fingers of the powdery residue of the cracker. Eyes peered upward to the tainted white wall that was vandalized with the message of the male he had hopes in encountering. He bit down on the side of his lip, knowing by now the media had read this message to the world. Though, it would benefit him, if Kira did get involved. This way, he could capture two birds with one stone. He had an evident feeling that the person he thought were Kira would slip up in the reaction of this criminal not dying at his whim, or rather ... how is he still alive?

"Mogi, be sure to keep a close eye on densely populated areas that seem to quickly depopulate at a given hour. Let's say around 9:30pm, hm? Watari, I need for you to provide me a map of this entire city and mark off the location from which these crimes took place. I have a feeling we may be dealing with another pattern."

**Log #6: END_**


	7. Log 7: BEYOND BIRTHDAY - WAITING

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Death Note Series or any of the characters portrayed in this piece. However, I do RP (Roleplay) as L Lawliet and decided to share this wonderful story with you all. The person portraying Beyond Birthday is not myself, but a friend of mine who RP's as this character. All credit on Beyond Birthday Chapters are to that individual. Please read and review, to let us know what you think.

**Upon Reading, Please Note:**

- This is a POV (Point of View) based story.  
- Bold Font in Dialogue (For Beyond Birthday) is associated to the Shinigami attached to him.  
- References to A are all created by a third party. He was given the name Accurate.

**Thank you and please enjoy reading. Send a Review with your feedback.**

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CASE FILE: BEYOND THE LIMIT

**Log #7: BEYOND BIRTHDAY - WAITING_**

If one were to be sitting in the living room of the apartment, listening to the commotion down the hall, they would think someone was being attacked and drowned. The two voices were loud and one was clearly trying to fight the other off. The water could be heard splashing around, coating whatever it touched. The various soaps and shampoos were crashing into the water and the floor, making the commotion even louder. It would have been very clear to anyone watching or listening in that one of those voices needed help. But, oh, if they were to open that door, they would be in for one hell of a surprise.

**"If you would just hold fucking still, I could help you!"** The Shinigami said with shampoo in his hands. All he was trying to do was help get the blood out of the boy's hair. And that little bastard was struggling more than he should have been.

"I can do it myself! I don't need you!" Beyond growled, putting his hands on the creature's chest and trying to shove him back.

**"You'd like Accurate wash your hair! Why am I not allowed?"**

"Oh, as if the answer isn't obvious!"

The Shinigami glared down at the human in the tub and took to the air, floating above the tub. He glared down at him with an evil glint in his eyes and a sickening smirk.

**"I didn't want to have to do this, but . . ."** The Shinigami trailed off, hiding himself behind his wings. Beyond just knew what he was going to do. That was something he would rather not witness.

"All right! All right! I'll let you bathe me, geez!" The boy whined, crossing his arms over his chest. With a purr, the Shinigami landed back just outside the tub and started to wash the long, blood coated locks of the boy's hair. For the most part while the bath was going on, they remained silent. Just as before, it was taking several tries to get all the blood out of the boy's hair.

"Do you think he remembers me?" It seemed like an odd question to ask at such a time, but the silence was deafening.

**"I don't know. I suppose he does. Why wouldn't he? You two were at each other's throats every time he came by for his various visits."**

"But I died. They had to have told him. I was his one mistake . . ." Beyond trailed off then, smiling some. "His one mistake. If that didn't put a stain on his perfect record, I don't know what will."

**"Well, wouldn't Accurate's death counts towards that, too?"**

"I don't want to talk anymore."

Silence filled the bathroom once again. The boy closed his eyes and sighed, remembering that night.

_It had been just another normal night with an exam in the morning. Accurate was studying as per usual and Beyond was just . . . laying there in the floor. He wasn't much for studying and school work. He was just as smart as his friend, but he chose not to show it. Second in line or not, he didn't really want to be there. Finally, the silence was becoming too much for him. He rolled over to look up at his friend, opening his mouth to ask him something when he caught movement. He looked up just a little bit and noticing something odd. Why was Accurate's death day changing? By the time he realized what was going on, it was far too late. He watched in horror as the male pulled a knife out of nowhere and slit his own throat. Both boys were covered in blood, but one was dead while the other was very much alive. They were found that morning after they'd both missed the exams. Everyone thought Beyond had done it, of course. Even L had thought it, he was sure. It was then Beyond decided what he had to do. It was a little after that that he ran away and this whole mess . . . Began._

**"All right, all finished. You can get out and get dressed now."** The Shinigami's voice rang out through the air, dragging him away from his thoughts. He got out and dried off, slipping back down the hall to his bedroom. Once more he slipped into boxers first, then jeans and debated what shirt to wear. He decided on white this time. He was having a moment. Afterwards, he walked back down the hall and made his way into the living room. He was tired and needed to sleep.

"Wake me up when the news comes on." He said flatly, laying down on the couch. The moment he closed his eyes, he was dead to the world. Funny, hadn't he literally been that way once?

It didn't take long for the Shinigami to notice how cute he looked when he was asleep. He got him a pillow and a blanket, made sure the boy was comfortable and did what he'd been asked. He channel surfed at first, casually eating the jar of jam he'd gone to get. There wasn't anything on tv worth watching this late. Or was it early? It was hard to tell with the hours those two kept. He yawned about the time the first rays of sunlight made their way into the window. He changed the channel over to that of the news station and woke the boy up.

**"Look at that, I think you're finally getting your credit."** He mused offhandedly. He glanced sidewise to see the genuine smile on the human's face.

"Now! If only L will say something . . . Or Kira. Preferably Kira. Fuck L. I can deal with him after I show my dominance."

**"Did you have a dream like that once? The fucking L bit, I mean."** The pillow collided with the side of his head and he couldn't help but laugh at how the boy reacted to that particular memory. They watched the report for a while longer before switching it off. Beyond had to clean all his precious little toys before they went out again. As much as he would like to properly space these killings out, he had Kira to compete with. He started chewing on his lip as he busied himself with cleaning. What if he couldn't keep up? People died every day, yes. But what if he couldn't find one? What if he had to delay the game because he couldn't find a target? He rolled his eyes, pushing that thought out of his mind. He would win, of that he would make sure.

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Later that evening, Beyond was once more on the couch. He rarely left the house unless he needed to be social. He made it a habit of avoiding being social. He was currently eating a bowl of sugary cereal upside down. There was nothing on tv and the only thing that didn't irritate him was cartoons. Those were all reruns and he needed something to do. He sighed and settled for the news. At least it was something to watch. He kept his eyes closed and just listened until a particularly interesting piece of information was said that made him open his eyes. Kira had replied!

"Oh, really? That's the best he could come up with as a response? 'God is watching you'?" he laughed then, shaking his head. "This is rich, man. What does Kira think he is?"

**"A God obviously. Aren't you paying attention?"** The bowl narrowly missed the Shinigami's head in the boy's annoyance.

"This is good though. I think we should respond another night. Like tomorrow? Or maybe in a couple days. I want to go out into the town, surround myself with people. Find the perfect place and the perfect victim to set up a grand reply!"

**"We can do that tomorrow if you wanted. You have a clear social schedule."** The Shinigami mused to him again, watching the little cogs turn in the human's head. What did he have planned, he wondered?

"And so it begins, Kira. And so it begins."

**Log #7: END_**


	8. Log 8: L LAWLIET - PITY

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Death Note Series or any of the characters portrayed in this piece. However, I do RP (Roleplay) as L Lawliet and decided to share this wonderful story with you all. The person portraying Beyond Birthday is not myself, but a friend of mine who RP's as this character. All credit on Beyond Birthday Chapters are to that individual. Please read and review, to let us know what you think.

**Upon Reading, Please Note:**

- This is a POV (Point of View) based story.  
- Bold Font in Dialogue (For Beyond Birthday) is associated to the Shinigami attached to him.  
- References to A are all created by a third party. He was given the name Accurate.

**Thank you and please enjoy reading. Send a Review with your feedback.**

* * *

CASE FILE: BEYOND THE LIMIT

**Log #8: L LAWLIET - PITY_**

That night - like many others was a restless sort. Back in his personal headquarters, the male sat there before his personal desktop peering at the illuminated screen. Though optics focused on the photos and documents taken from the gatherings on this investigation, his mind was elsewhere. Drifting his view away from the LCD screen, he pressed his lips together, nipping at the corner in a soft grunt. He could always question the other's motives, but he already knew what drove him. But he did have one question that he did wish to hear an answer from the other, face to face:

If you were actually able to take me down of my title as World's Greatest Detective - what would you do then? Would it ache less to walk these mortal plains?

He disliked thinking too much on things irrelevant to the case, but it was becoming a bit of a distraction as he was left to his solitude in that dark spacious room. The silence was a paradox; one from which a person would often find his true enemy: himself. Sitting there and begging forgiveness was not his way to cope. Actions were his fancy. His dedication to eradicate the world of injustice was his drive. His redemption. At least, that is what he had led himself to believe over the years. Was he no different than a criminal? Was he no different than Kira? than B?

"I wonder if he could hear the bells too...?"

A soft utterance escaped his lips. An index tracing upon the hardwood floors, playing along it's partner of a shadow in a harmonious waltz.

"What was that, L? Something concerning you?" Spoke the elderly male who had just entered to check in on the detective with the general purpose of insisting he rest. Since it was just the two of them in their private quarters, he held no need to address the prodigy by the chosen alias - an alias from which the name would probably make the male's mind stir more than it already has.

"Oh. It was nothing, just a wonder. How those bells could make my mind stray... nostalgia? No. It must be pity..." He responds in a soft tone, following the gestures of his tracing index with those dark orbs.

The handler motioned over to the male, casting about his shoulders a throw blanket to keep him warm. Raven locks fell over the suitor's eyes. The shadows of the dark room hindered all expression but the soft frown presented to his lips. A pale hand mused upward in a tiny clench of the blanket's material. A soft tug in means to envelope his frame, he spoke the words that he knew Watari wanted to hear.

"Thank you. I will retire in a moment. After I sort these in a personal file."

Satisfied, the older male gestured his head in the form of a nod. A soft hum passed his lightly pressed lips before turning heels and venturing out of the room to leave the detective to his privacy. He left the door cracked as an extra provision of light. His shadow danced behind the crack of the door, only to shrink to a vanish with the spoken word, "Goodnight."

A brief sigh was heard within that dark room. Only the engine of his computer fan broke the silence, providing to him company with his thoughts. He had all the items he needed in his possession, displayed upon that computer screen: the forensic reports on the bodies, the estimated time within those reports, the map with marked locations and last ... photographs of the notes, though those he chose to neglect.

Sitting aside from him was that bloodied bag of candies that he couldn't bring himself to throw out - call it a mild means of attachment. The fact the male placed in his favorite treats was beyond him; any sweet would have done. Did this mean, the other still in some way cared about him? He forced back the thought, yet again feeling it to be irrelevant.

It had been arranged that the news did report on this latest victim, all in the means of drawing Kira out to interfere. With that hefty distraction at way, L had the aspirations of stepping from his comforting shadows and scout out for the culprit on his own. But first...

His hand motioned to the mouse of his computer, guiding it to click on an icon and open out an internet browsing window. There he looked through a list of addresses all verified with a specific single letter initial. Some letters were grayed out, indicating that the person attached was deceased. Peering onto the grayed out 'B', L would open up the email window and type a single message. He was unsure if the other even still checked the organization email hence the personal rebellion, but it was worth a shot.

As promised, when he concluded in his document sorting and that email, he did set himself to rest in that sitting posture. Hands cupped at his knees as his eyes slowly forced themselves closed. It was another night he found it terribly hard to sleep, only thinking of the male's response to that one vague email:

**_'Did you hear the bells too - on that day we had to say goodbye to A?_'_****  
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**Log #8: END_**


End file.
